


A Journey of Small Steps

by oxymoron



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Marauders' Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-02-04
Updated: 2007-06-10
Packaged: 2019-01-19 12:37:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12410445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oxymoron/pseuds/oxymoron
Summary: James and Lily. Step by step.From James' perspective. [Abandoned]





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016.

 

It wasn’t love at first sight. When he first saw her – well, actually, he cannot remember _when_ he first saw her, he was eleven and not really into girls at that time – but it certainly was not a very special or striking encounter. And probably, love at first sight doesn’t exist, anyway.

Does love at first talk? Because that was what he came to term it later.

Well, maybe it _is_ slightly exaggerated. It probably wasn’t love, but it definitely was a huge crush. Alas, everybody seemed to have had huge crushes at the time - they came and went like Quidditch games. A lot of anticipation, dry lips, sticky hands, hoarse voices, too much pent-up emotion, clever moves, dirty tricks, those endless moments when a single figure rose up high above all the rest, triumph (or black defeat) – and then, it was over, and they turned their backs on the playing field, the next game already on their minds.

Yet, his crush just didn’t end, the game went on, and somewhere along the way it turned into … that other thing, and if you asked him or her or anybody who’d been with them, they couldn’t tell you when the transition took place.

So he calls it love at first talk. And she laughs, and gives him a kiss.

 

*****************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Prologue dedicated to Sharon (Merle).
> 
> I love feedback. Reviews make my day rainbowfeatherylight.
> 
> As always, any comments concerning spelling, grammar, etc. are appreciated.


	2. 1st step: Talking

 

It wasn’t love at first sight.

But it was love at first talk.

First real talk, that is. He might have asked her for a quill, or said sorry after having bumped into her in the hallways before – though he cannot remember doing either – but he never took much notice of her and the other girls until the day he got detention for filling Snape’s cauldron with frogspawn, in fourth year. He stumbled into the dungeons to scrub cauldrons, gloomy, kicking the walls with his feet.

And there she was. Scrubbing.

“Evans?!”

She looked up quickly and bent down again.

“Hi James.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Scrubbing.”

“Why?”

“Detention.”

“What for?”

“Got into a fight.”

“With whom?”

“My sister.”

“You have a sister? I’ve never seen her.”

“She’s a Muggle.”

“She’s not at Hogwarts?”

“No.”

“So how come you got detention for fighting with her?”

“Long story.”

He waited. She scrubbed.

“You going to tell me?”

“No.”

And she said it with just that amount of determination, aloofness, and petulance that he did not persevere.

So he slowly set to work, throwing glances at her. Her face was slightly flushed, several strands of dark red hair had escaped from her messy bun and the dim light reflecting from the mossy walls and ceiling gave her complexion an unhealthy hue. She did not exactly look pretty, leaning over her cauldron, fully concentrated on her work, muttering curses under her breath.

But she fascinated him. Most girls he knew did not get detention. Most girls he knew jumped at any attention he gave them. Most girls he knew chattered endlessly, in high, giggling voices. He wondered how her laugh sounded. He must have heard her laugh before – Merlin, they had seen each other almost daily for the past three years – but he could not remember. What _did_ he know about her?

She was Muggle-born.

She was good at Potions.

Come to think of it, she was pretty good in most classes.

He could not think of anything else. But now, he wanted to know more.

So he began to talk. He had never been shy. Although she did not contribute much to the conversation, he went on talking, joking, entertaining her. And she listened, reluctantly at first, until she burst out laughing when he told her how Sirius and he had watered Professor Sprout’s mandrakes with a Hiccough Potion. And somehow, that laugh, and the glow in her eyes made him forget the gloomy dungeon and the slimy rug in his hand and the dirty cauldrons around him. For a second, he felt as if he was sitting on his broom, wind in his face, the Quaffle in his hand and a deserted hoop in front of him. And he threw back his head and joined in her laughter. And they talked on, animatedly, for hours, cauldrons half-forgotten. And she told him how she had wanted to send her sister a Howler, but how, _some_ how, it had exploded while she was on her way to the owlery, right in front of McGonagall’s classroom. And she shrugged off the embarrassment, and her frustration, and he thought she was cool, and daring, and witty. And when they were done, and had walked back to their common room, she smiled at him (and her smile was rather sweet), and said “good night” (and her voice was sweet, too), and left. And he stood in front of the dying fire and did not understand what had just happened.

 

******************************


	3. 2nd Step: Realizing

 

Maybe it was because of that, because he was confused, and felt uneasy in someone’s presence for the first time, and could not place the new emotions, that this detention, this conversation they had both truly enjoyed, did not lead to more. Because they did not become friends afterwards. They went on as before, peers who seemingly took hardly any notice of each other. Except that, from this day on, he could not help but notice her.

He started to listen to her conversations, and to watch her, and found out he enjoyed both. But somehow, he felt something missing, he wanted more, but did not know what. It took some time for him to realize he simply had a crush on her.

Those first months of fourth year brought changes. Sirius had a terrible fight with Regulus and announced that James was his real brother now. James became some sort of Quidditch hero when he scored twenty-three goals in their first match against Slytherin. He had grown, and was now taller than Peter. They heard the name “Lord Voldemort” for the first time. And the Gryffindor boys discovered that there were girls. Girls that looked good and smiled in that certain, promising way, and were more than a source of quills or an aim for pranks. Suddenly, Hogsmeade was not all about Zonko’s and Honeydukes anymore, it was about holding hands and buying butterbeer for two, and _kissing_ in a secluded corner while fervently hoping that it was not _too_ secluded, and that somebody would see and spread the word.

They were constantly arguing over rankings of girls in their year. Julia Smith from Ravenclaw was voted first by unanimous consent. She was quite … well developed for her age. Second place was held by Marlene McKinnon, who was with them in Gryffindor, much to Remus’ annoyance, who had favoured Felicitas Downs, now third place. Lily had obtained a respectable seventh place. They started a contest over who got the best Hogsmeade date. Extra points were awarded for kisses. James, finally tall and a Quidditch hero, was on a fair trail towards victory. He held Marlene’s (saved as No. 2 in his head) hand tightly in his own, dragging her to the aforementioned (not too) secluded corner. He bent down and saw her close her eyes. He brought his lips to hers. He was not entirely sure how to do this, but she seemed more experienced, gently caressing his neck with her hand and moving her lips under his. He relaxed and closed his eyes. He felt blood rushing into his cheeks, felt his pulse rising, felt a prickle where her hands touched his skin, felt his stomach flip and his heart beat. Scenes unfolded before his inner eye. Marlene smiling at him as he handed her a butterbeer. The crowd cheering as he scored for the twenty-third time. Julia Smith’s butt, swaying lightly as she walked. Rain washing over his heated body. Lily in front of the dying fire, with glowing cheeks and unruly hair. Smiling. At him. She said good night in a soft voice and turned and left. He broke the kiss. When he opened his eyes again, Marlene’s face smiled at him and for a second his head swirled in confusion. He must have looked rather stupid, for she laughed at him. “Do you always look like you lost your mind after kissing, or is it me?”

That evening he sat on his four poster bed and wondered what it would be like kissing _her_.

“Sirius?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think all girls taste the same?”

“Dunno, mate. I reckon it depends on what they like to eat. Why?”

Why? Why did he wonder? Why had she come and disturbed his kiss?

“Just wondering…”

“Did she taste good?”

“Who?” he asked, distracted. Sirius threw a pillow at his head.

“No. 2!”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess…”

He fell back onto the mattress, gazing at the ceiling, ignoring Sirius who tried to question him further.

And that was when it hit him, and it all started to make sense.

***************************************************


	4. 3rd Step: Humiliating yourself

 

And of course it all went wrong from there.

_(Because we know it did, don’t we? And we all expect the whole story to be that slightly twisted fairytale, boy meets girl, boy loves girl, girl hates boy, girl changes her mind, girl becomes woman, boy becomes man, woman and man marry, couple fights evil together, women gets pregnant, woman, man and child form a family and they do not live happily ever after because evil lord kills them and child grows up in misery to save the world. But James didn’t know that - not yet, at least - so stay put and read on.)_

He tried to please, harder than ever, and failed, spectacularly.

On several occasions.

Afterwards, he wondered who that boy had been that had impersonated him as soon as he had gotten close enough for her to notice him. The boy had talked like James Potter, only louder, laughed like James Potter, only more hysterical, cracked jokes like James Potter, only more insulting, called for attention like James Potter, only more demanding. James thought the boy had made a perfect fool of himself. He was only afraid that someone who did not know him very well might have mistaken the boy for him. And he was afraid that Lily might just have been that someone. _Shit._

His friends soon found out. It was inevitable, really. It happened at breakfast, in the Great Hall. The Gryffindor table was rather crowded. He shunned away a couple of first-years to get a spot close to Lily and started talking about Quidditch. She continued to chat with her friends and didn’t take any notice of him. He started to talk louder. Still no sign of attention. He began to brag about his reflexes. Lily reached for some toast.

Thirty seconds later, he was running away from the Great Hall, shamefaced and drenched in pumpkin juice because he had knocked over his goblet in his eagerness to pass Lily Evans the toast while describing his spectacular motor skills, when a voice rang through the empty corridor.

“Hey, James!” It was Sirius _._

“Might it be possible that you fancy a certain lady…” Oh no, Peter was there, too.

“…named Lily Evans quite a little bit?” And Remus.

Of course he denied it. Of course they knew that he knew that they knew. Of course they teased him mercilessly, and kept his secret. And sometimes, when he lay on his bed, staring blindly at the hangings, Sirius would let out a deep, knowing sigh and say “Ah, women! Curse them!” and offer a trip to the Quidditch pitch, which James would accept gratefully.

Staring blindly at the hangings became quite a hobby, due to two concurrent processes he was sorely aware of. The painfully plain truth was that Lily Evans’ regard for James Potter fell about as fast as his regard for her rose. And for the first time in his life, he wondered what was wrong with him, whether he was not good enough. The thoughts frightened him. Self-reflection and self-doubt were new, intimidating companions.

 

*****************************

Still not happy with this one. Still not getting round to rewriting.

Concerning the format of this story, I will probably continue the way it is now: a series of short, connected drabbles.

As always, I love to hear what you think of it.


	5. 4th Step: Supplanting

Which is why he soon learned to suppress those thoughts. It was very simple logic, really. It _couldn’t_ be his fault.

_Everybody_ liked him.

(Except for her).

He _never_ unwittingly made a fool of himself.

(Except around her).

He was _always_ the one in control, the one who had the upper hand.

(Except when dealing with her … And Sirius, but that didn’t count … And McGonagall, but that didn’t count either … And Dumbledore, but that _certainly_ didn’t count).

That left only one culprit. It was definitely exclusively her fault. QED. Problem _solved_.

She was a stupid, conceited, fastidious and totally undeserving bitch, there was nothing that special about her, she certainly had no reason to fancy herself above him the way she obviously did and he _couldn’t care less_. Hell, she was only No. 7.

So he violently shoved her picture out of his mind, punched his pillow a few times (and the bed posts too, for good measure), and went to sleep, teeth gritted.

(He spent the night tossing and turning, and dreaming of a horde of big, animate numbers chasing him. He kept looking for a red Seven, but every time he caught a glimpse of it, the other numbers surrounded him and blocked his sight.)

And so, when Marlene came up to him next morning at breakfast and asked if he wanted to sit with her, he said yes. His mouth smiled smugly, his hand reached for hers with deft alacrity, his voice found back to that pleasant, self-assured tone he had always taken for granted and but for that small twinge somewhere behind his ribcage he felt glorious.

Yes, he had certainly done well. He had a spot on the Quidditch team, a small fan club, three great friends, and a girlfriend who was not an arrogant, freckled redhead. Nothing left to wish for.

And still, at times…

like when she sat in the common room, leading a lively debate with Marlene, green eyes sparkling, red hair whipping in the rythm of her merrily serious voice, arms moving through the air, her whole posture radiating confidence…

like when she worked on her homework in the library, forehead creased, chewing on her quill, her lip, or - when she thought no one was looking - her nails…

like when she was so immersed in one of her favourite novels (and by now, he was certain he knew every book she possessed) that she became quite oblivious to the world around her and jumped if anybody spoke at her…

he would just forget about it all, and stare until Sirius found something really nasty to throw at him.

 

*****************************

It's been a while. I hope you enjoy. Tell me what you think, please. 


End file.
